brickclubfandomcom-20200213-history
1.2.13-Pilferingapples
Brick!club Book 1: Fantine Vol.2 Ch.13 : Petit Gervais The Scene That Never Gets Adapted! And that’s a shame, because I think this is Valjean’s real What Have I Done moment, the first time he’s remorseful for the deed rather than sorry he got caught, as it were. It’s also the hardest chapter for me to write about so far, because finally he’s engaging with his life, so I feel like I am too, and wow, it is Not A Fun Life. This, I think, is the first chapter that really struck me on my first read of the book. That one line—”in stealing the money from this child, he had done a thing of which he was no longer capable” so perfectly sums up Valjean’s total dissociation from himself and the outside world, which is displayed outwardly through the whole interaction with Petite Gervais. Valjean barely reacts to current external stimuli; he keeps checking out mid-conversation. He doesn’t exactly rob Gervais; the robbery sort of happens and he participates, but his head’s not in it enough even to remember he’s talking to a boy from moment to moment. And this I think is one of my favorite things about the characters in Les Miserables. It’s a common saying that fiction is the only place that people are supposed to act rationally (I have seen SO MANY attributions, so…), and the characters here don’t. That is, they don’t act like cool calculating sensible people with full bellies and solid ways of assessing every detail needed for optimum courses of action. They don’t even act kind of reasonable half the time; they react to physical stress, they have misplaced emotions and they live inside their own heads. They aren’t sensible but they’re realistic, and I love them. About the hallucinatory conversion, I’m not sure we’re supposed to take it as a literal happenstance as some interpretations seem to do; but does it matter if it’s all in Valjean’s head? The effect is the same either way. That feels like maybe part of the point? That it’s the way he’s perceiving the world that is changing, not the world itself? I DON’T KNOW, what I know about authorial intent here is…not much. I hope everyone is on board with the concept of my staggering ignorance by now! Aaaand I think that’s all I can say about this chapter without getting boringly personal; or running a differential diagnosis on Valjean here, so I’ll just wait for what’s sure to be better commentary to play off from the rest of you. Commentary Kalevala-sage Claims that Gervais has been courteous abound, and I’d disagree—he’s adamant and pestersome and…''childish''. He does vuvoye Valjean, but that’s about the extent of his etiquette—and honestly that’s about par for the course considering Valjean, besides being a handful of decades his senior, is doubtlessly menacing him with his ”''terrible''" face (yup, the same word about which, in reference to Enjolras, I and other French readers have expostulated at length). I suspect my assessment is coloured by, say, the value I place on obsequiousness, but there it is; kids, if you want something from me, it is not recommended you put forth that request by reiterating I want it I want it I want it and shaking my collar. Anyhow, Petit-Gervais’s escalating hysteria, directly proportional to Valjean’s agitation, had me believing Valjean had, driven by a caustic schadenfreude, deliberately taken the money. Hugo’s voice doesn’t help: “''Jean Valjean posa le pied dessus''" is as active a sentence as anything. Once Valjean’s preoccupation has been delineated, Hugo does take efforts to portray him sympathetically, though: it’s mentioned that "il est probable qu’il avait la fièvre,” and while Valjean himself ought to be aware of whether or not this was true, the “probably” gives the narrator an objectivity that takes him definitively out of Valjean’s head and into omniscience—establishing that the narration neither unreliable nor biasedly empathetic. What compassion Hugo gives Valjean is, therefore, entirely warranted. The critique leading me out of the shadows of #brick!club lurking, though, is an indignant sunsets don’t work that way, because if I’m to be authoritative about anything it’s lighting symbolism! Following is the offending sentence: ”''L’enfant tournait le dos au soleil qui lui mettait des fils d’or dans les cheveux et qui empourprait d’une lueur sanglante la face sauvage de Jean Valjean'',” wherein the clear intent is to give Petit-Gervais a halo and make Valjean a devil. I take issue mostly with the impossibility of illuminating Gervais prettily without doing the same to Valjean: conversely, if the sun is so low as to ruddy Valjean’s face, Gervais would appear more ominous than angelic (high sources would bestow the desired aura), and Valjean wouldn’t be able to discern his countenance as more than a shadow, particularly with the satanic redness dazzling* his gaze. Hooray useless observations from a person of the theatre. Regardless—we’ve reached the end of the livre, and the first eponymic “''Je suis un misérable!” *one of Hugo’s favourite words—kin with ''crépuscule and lugubre—is the verb éblouir, which has no real English equivalents; think “to obscure” but connoting light instead of darkness. It’s quite beautiful but I’ve already been nerdy enough about lighting in this post… Sarah1281 (reply to Kalevala-sage) He’s not being a saint, of course, but I can’t judge him too harshly for shaking Valjean by the collar because he’s still being ignored and told to go away by someone who had just taken his money and he’s already asked for it four times. He seems polite, though, because he introduces himself when his name is asked and calls Valjean ‘sir’ six times. There’s also two ‘if you please’s in there. It really stands out as him being more polite than it probably would in other circumstances because of how badly everyone else who wasn’t the bishop was treating him. Kalevala-sage (reply to Sarah1281) Ah, so we arrive at a translation issue! Petit-Gervais uses “monsieur” in French, which I read as a cocky, urchin-y “mister,” but which could equally mean “sir.” It’s likely, then, that both I and your translator projected our basic opinions of children as a default for the encounter—as I possess exactly no maternal-paternal instincts, I assumed when a small child was first said to approach Valjean that he would be an unruly nuisance, and as nothing in the text contradicted me, I…rolled with it. Consequently his obstinacy came across less as desperation and more as an annoyance, and the s’il te plaît (of which there is only one in the French) as whiny. Though you do raise an interesting point in the additional significance of Gervais’s unwonted kindness, should it exist. Sarah1281 (reply to Kalevala-sage) I suppose it’s not surprising that Gervais is only supposed to say “if you please” once because in this translation it’s just so close to each other as to seem strange that he would repeat himself: "I, sir,” replied the child. “Little Gervais! I! Give me back my forty sous, if you please! Take your foot away, sir, if you please!” I wonder why they added it in there twice. Yes, I can definitely see the difference in a child saying “Mister, give me my forty sous!” and “Sir, give me my forty sous!” Saying mister like that isn’t necessarily impolite (especially nowadays when most children I’ve met don’t really have ‘sir’ in their vocabulary and so say ‘mister’ or ‘miss’ when they’re trying to be polite. I recently saw a little kid call after a guy ‘Mister, you dropped your wallet’ and give it back to him and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t meant to be disrespectful) but it’s a lot more likely to be used not as a sign of respect than sir is. Gascon-en-exile I can understand why the Petit Gervais episode is almost always cut, for the same reason that OFPD is either cut, sped up, or blended into the general chaos of the breaching of the barricades. It’s anti-climatic for Valjean’s actual moment of spiritual conversion to be so delayed, and externally speaking the bishop saving Valjean before the authorities is of greater importance than Valjean’s tortured conscience after committing petty theft. However, to highlight the fact of his conversion it’s really important to have him falter and then feel remorse for it, and prior to the time skip and the plot taking up in M-sur-M there’s no other opportunity to really drive home the bishop’s message except to have Valjean screw up almost immediately. Valjean’s internal deliberation partakes of some of the same binarism that later shows up in Javert’s characterization, with the parallel structured statement “''que s’il voulait devenir bon il fallait qu’il devînt ange; que s’il voulait rester méchant il fallai qu’il devînt monstre''” (“if he wanted to become good he would become an angel; if we wanted to remain evil he would become a monster”) reminds me of Javert being torn between the two poles of law and crime and the “angel and devil on the shoulder” thing, but that’s just about the silliest representation of conscience ever. As for why Valjean stole the coin, I think I have to bring up the lesson of St. Augustine and his pears (again?) - there’s a mechanical thrill to wrongdoing, especially if one is accustomed to doing it without moral discomfort for a long period of time. Breaking that impulse to sin is one of the hardest things to do for the aspiring righteous. As we move away from the only two livres to concern the bishop, I think it’s the poignant that at the end of the chapter Valjean allows the bishop to practically take over his conscience, becoming a direct symbol of God and of his redeemed soul (and opposed to the miserable monster that was just former Jean Valjean). At the end “''l’évêque seul était resté'',” so even though Myriel is gone from the rest of the narrative, we know that Valjean will be carrying him around in his heart (in a totally non-gay way) for the rest of the Brick. Pilferingapples (reply to Gascon-en-exile) I don’t actually know the narrative of Augustine and the pears! Did I miss it in an earlier club post? I do tend to play catch-up in a daze… I can’t say I’ve ever felt any thrill in wrongdoing, but Hugo’d be coming from a tradition that certainly would know such stories, and might have been working from it? To me Valjean’s action here always read as so mechanical, a sort of overlearned behavior more than any real drive to sin, especially since Hugo’s spent so much time convincing us that Valjean wasn’t especially lawbreaking before the Bread Thing. But I am always happy for more cultural context! Gascon-en-exile (reply to Pilferingapples' reply) Oh, sorry, could have sworn I’ve mentioned it before, but now that I think of it it was probably just a passing mention. In St. Augustine’s Confessions (written ~400, and as he’s one of the Doctors of the Church his work would have been common knowledge for anyone growing up Catholic in Hugo’s time), an autobiographical series of books about his life and conversion as well as general theology, he tells of a time from his childhood where he and some friends stole some pears from a neighbor’s tree. Augustine recounts how he wasn’t even hungry at the time and how his wealthy family had better pears on their own land - Jean Valjean he certainly wasn’t - but he stole them simply because he knew it was wrong and because he was in an environment (his peer group) that encouraged misbehavior for its own sake. His reflections on this moment later in life form an early basis for an understanding of the nature of sin. Timegoddessrose As you may know, this scene was actually adapted (and beautifully) in the 1934 French film (which I HIGHLY recommend. It’s my favorite adaption so far), also in the 2000 mini-series (which I don’t recommend as much…). I also once saw footage of a school edition production of the musical (in Hungary, I think?) that managed to work it in (BLESS!). :) Also, this is an EXCELLENT observation about the Les Mis characters not acting rationally all the time and being rather a mess. I think it’s a huge reason why I love the book so much; the characters feel believably flawed and ‘real’ in that I could see real people behaving that way. Pilferingapples (reply to Timegoddessrose) Is the 1934 version the 10-hour megathon? Because I will still seek it out, I’ll just…need to plan my day.:P Yes, I feel like a lot of stories have characters who can get beat up, but never seem to feel pain, or they skip meals but never get hungry— it never affects their thought processes, they don’t get irrational or short, they don’t carry a memory of the wound once the bruise fades. For something so much obsessed with the inner life, Les Mis’ characters are very physical and I think it’s why they can make me hurt so much and go on like I have observations oh no shut me up. and WOW, go school play! Timegoddessrose (reply to Pilferingapples' reply) The ‘34 film (it’s technically in three parts, but…) is almost five hours and I really can’t recommend it enough. The first part especially is phenomenal. Specifically, Charles Vanel as Javert is immense. It’s like he literally swallowed the brick and regurgitated it on screen. I mean, he even does the brick physically, I just!!! And Harry Baur is the best filmic Valjean I have EVER seen. It also features Sister Simplice, who is my favorite female character and is played to perfection in this film. I should warn you, that the students are a bit frustrating for a brick fan. Courfeyrac is actually Combeferre, Grantaire is Courfeyrac (which is so bizarre, I can’t), and Enjolras has mad professor hair that gets frizzier in every shot and he goes a bit coocoo singing love songs to liberty and such. However, I still love the students in this film dearly in all their odd mismatchy glory. <3 Also, Marius looks like brick-Enjolras to the point that it’s seriously distracting. :p Oh! But there is absolutely PERFECT Gavroche in the form of Émile Genevois!! Seriously, the BEST filmic Gavroche I’ve ever seen; he’s incredible. Also good Eponine, and Azelma actually exists, yeay! OH OH OH! Marius’ grandfather is actually given proper screen time and he is FANTASTIC! I die laughing every time he is one screen, I caaaan’t. :D Okay, long story short: YES DO WATCH THIS FILM IT IS THE BEST YOU WILL NOT REGRET THIS DECISION IT IS MY FAVORITE. (Wow sorry. I kind of ‘34 film feels vomited on you…) Pilferingapples (reply to Timegoddessrose's reply) OH MY GOSH YES THAT’S IT THAT’S THE ONE, the one I mostly missed because TCM showed it at like…5 am on the day they were showing their Mega Mis Marathon. Enjolras with the mad science hair! I remember being weirded out by that! …Does he actually sing love songs to France though? Because I may need that in my life, Combefeyracs or no. Timegoddessrose (reply to Pilferingapples' reply) Yes, Enjolras really does sing to liberty/France, complete with glazed over crazy eyes and slow raising of The Flag; it’s the BEST. :DD Notquitelostnotquitefound (reply to Pilferingapples' reply) Once Enjolras is covered in barricade dirt and the hair is in full ridiculousness, all I can see is Jon Hamm in blackface http://cdn.hollywoodgrind.com/images/2012/04/jon-ham-in-blackface-on-30-rock-hollywoodgrind-4.jpg on that 30 Rock episode. But yes, I also recommend this version! In addition to the things already mentioned, I’ll throw in some appreciation for the music by Arthur Honegger, who’s one of my favorite composers even though I have complicated feelings about him as a person. Lovethefutureisthine have somehow goofed up the format later on here??? Sorry if this is tough to read! Woooooo, this is my first post back and I’m too lazy to do more than a skim and mild edit and I have to remember how to be eloquent (hah). I’m just gonna make my own post and attach it to my reblog of PIlfering’s post because I felt like I had something to add but looking back it wasn’t really that much. OK administrative stuff done. THE SCENE I ALWAYS JOKE ABOUT. I claim that I judge an adaptation on the inclusion of Gervais. This isn’t true, and I understand why he isn’t there usually, but I think it’s important that we see that Valjean has to make the decision to change by himself, as opposed to simply following the Bishop’s lead. Since that was definitely not a decision he made in any form. I think it’s important that Hugo makes it pretty clear that crime is a habit. That it isn’t necessarily just because Some People Are Bad that they do bad things, they do it out of continued necessity and because it’s What’s Always Been Done. We can tell that Valjean is super on autopilot right now because he’s still trying to process what happened earlier. “It was a curious phenomenon, and one only possible in the situation he was in, that, in the robbing the boy of that money, he committed a deed of which he was no longer capable.” I think this is the line that rips me apart the most. I have always felt that Valjean knows he isn’t totally a hardened criminal the whole time he is going through everything; this probably makes him more bitter. But I think that’s why this action is all the more shocking to him. Gervais could so easily have been his nephew. Sometimes shame is a great motivator.